


A Brother Returned Home

by C_RIE_ativity (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Family Feels, M/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Returning Home, Sherrinford surprises Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-01-30 15:32:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/C_RIE_ativity
Summary: Mycroft used to have an older brother. He was the only one before Greg came along that could get away with calling him Myc or Mycie. His big brother taught him everything Mycroft knew but then something happened and Mycroft could only remember vague shadows of that night when his elder brother was kicked out of their home. All he remembered was that caring for people became a disadvantage since he felt lost when that one family member left.His name was Sherrinford.Now after the events of Sherrinford, he was on his way to healing and being happy with Gregory Lestrade, Detective Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard when the namesake of the facility that had caused him grief returns to him, bloody, battered and smiling as gently as he used to in his childhood.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherrinford Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 18
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a peaceful ten months of living together.

A peaceful and _happy_ ten months.

Mycroft was still a bit of a mess after everything that happened with Eurus, Greg was willing to say that much. But with Greg keeping the British Government himself company and reassuring Mycroft that he won’t wake up in a cell with a rotting, bloodied corpse of the governor there to haunt him.

It had been a year since he had begun his watch over Mycroft to ensure he would be safe even from his own mind.

Ten since he had confessed.

Six since their relationship begun.

And four since they moved in together.

They had their highs and lows and their occasional fights could reach stupendous heights. Their apologies could get long and full of tear-stained pleas for neither to leave and followed by sincere attempts at bettering themselves.

The fact that Greg had Mycroft sleeping in his arms was still a miracle.

Gazing at his lover, Greg smiled and pressed his lips against Mycroft's forehead.

He’s waited too long to be this happy.

Moving to adjust himself, he felt Mycroft sidle up further against him. Greg chuckled and made to gently nudge Mycroft to a decent distance (read: not much) so he could move when he heard it.

Outside their room, he could hear one of the spare bedroom's door being opened and clicked shut.

Ice chilled his veins and throwing a worried glance at his lover, Greg moved to leave the bed.

"Gregory...?" Voice slurred by sleep and still bleary-eyed, Mycroft met Greg's eyes with confusion and concern.

Not wanting to worry Mycroft, the Detective Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard smiled the most reassuring smile he can give to a man whose occupation was to listen to a fair number of liars and cheats the whole day.

"S’alright, love." He tried to keep his tone even and calm though he could see the concern growing in Mycroft's eyes. Leaning over, he caught Mycroft's lips with his, keeping the contact for a few moments before he pulled away. "Just need to get some water then I’ll be back."

Though doubt still marred Mycroft's face, Greg still left and carefully closed the door, wishing that Mycroft wouldn’t investigate in case someone came to kill him. (Finding out that Eurus could brainwash people like a child playing with dolls made him wary of many people that associated with him, Mycroft, Sherlock and John.) Praying he had chosen the correct spare bedroom so as to immediately see what had caused it to open and close, Greg pulled open the first door on the left across his and Mycroft’s room.

He froze when he saw a figure bathed in darkness, hunched over, head resting in his hands.

Greg reacted immediately and he took a step forward, trying to catch the stranger's attention.

The figure did not look up.

"Oi, mate. You know you’re breaking and entering, yeah?" His heart was beating too fast, but his voice was steady, firm, it was warning the stranger of what he had come into. "I could arrest you right here and now-"

"Please delay my arrest, Officer. I’m quite unwell." The stranger's accent was posh in spite of the pain that tainted it.

Greg noted that, it has a familiar note to it but Greg chose not to dwell on it.

"Sorry, mate. Can’t go round letting you break into houses." Greg moved closer, placing a hand on the stranger's shoulder. "I'll take you to a hospital if you need to."

Moving to pull the stranger to his feet, the stranger rose and took hold of him. It wasn’t aggressive or even a threatening hold, but it felt more like the figure needed to hold him to keep balance.

Though he was a trespasser that’s for all Greg knew could also be an assassin or something, concern still welled up in him.

"Could you walk?" His tone was not too gentle to welcome a friendly interaction, but it gentled enough for him to hopefully coax a civil answer from the fellow.

The trespasser said nothing to his inquiry. Instead, the stranger asked a question that returned the DCI's suspicion towards him.

"Where is the master of this house?"

Bathed in moonlight, they stood there for a moment. The stranger keeping a hold of him, his posture slouched slightly, Greg standing still in case he was truly needed for support.

Then their eyes met and though Greg knew this could be coincidence, he still felt his blood run cold.

The stranger had eyes so similar to Mycroft's, an aquiline nose accompanied those pale eyes, his hair was almost completely silver with a few flecks of auburn left. But even then, those eyes looked more youthful than the age his hair indicated.

Time was frozen for him. Greg was unable to move.

He heard the door to the spare bedroom open with a creak and Greg knew that was his lover.

"Gregory, I thought you were off to fetch wa-" A sharp intake of breath followed.

The light was turned on.

The stranger was not looking at Greg when the lights came on and was instead gazing at Mycroft with affection, a small smile graced his lips. Greg did not pay further attention to that for he was drawn to the red blossoming through his coat.

"Hello, baby brother." The stranger spoke, his voice calm yet pained, eyes both playful and sad, his posture had attempted to right itself when he looked at Mycroft but it caused him further pain.

Greg caught the trespasser in his arms as Mycroft rushed towards him with a cry of a name that Greg used to think was simply the name of a facility Mycroft used to oversee.

"Sherrinford!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories, hurting and reassurances.

When Sherrinford fell, it felt like Mycroft had been dropped back to his childhood. 

Blackened eyes swollen shut with a reassuring smile to hide the pain.

Gently spoken words of "_Don't be sorry, baby brother_."

Rough hands tousling the curls he had forced to tame when he became a teenager.

Quiet reassurances that he was in no way lacking for his distaste in violence.

Warm embraces and excited cheering at his fencing matches.

Eyes that mirrored his crinkling in absolute delight when he had given his first fencing medal to a similarly auburn-haired young man.

All he could scream was his brother's name when Sherrinford fell to the floor, a hand going to his bleeding stomach as  Gregory reached out to catch him.

Mycroft wished he was at least competent enough to think of that.

* * *

He cannot count how many times Anthea had given him her company and aide even when he was not asking for it. And once more here she was, freshly made up, hair in perfect order, looking so calm that had he been a lesser person, Mycroft would not have known that he had ripped her from her fiancée's arms for something he should have found easy to do had it not been for the anxiety piercing through his very soul like poisoned shards.

He kept a vice-like grip of Gregory's hand as Andrew drove them all to the nearest hospital to ensure that his brother survives this. 

"I’ve already seen to it that they will know a patient is arriving, they have a team ready and all we'll need to do is give them the necessary information." Anthea spoke swiftly as she typed away in her phone, her gaze cool and unfazed as she looked at Mycroft and then at Sherrinford.

"How long had he been bleeding out, sir?" 

Mycroft furrowed his brows before looking at Gregory. He had tried to deduce when his brother had arrived and when he had received the wound but his hands had begun violently trembling and in that moment when Sherrinford collapsed, it was as if his mind was wrapped in wool and it felt like his consciousness was abruptly pulled away from his body.

He felt Gregory's rough hand squeeze his reassuringly and a small smile was directed at him as if to tell him that it was alright.

"M’guessing the wound had been there awhile, bleeding's a bit sluggish but it looks like he needs to be checked if he has anything in those wounds like glass shards or somethin'."

Gregory's voice washed over him soothingly, grounding him slightly and keeping him from forgetting to breathe. Feeling Gregory’s hands holding his, his lover's thumbs stroking over the back of his hands was a calming sensation that at least allowed Mycroft to keep himself aware of his surroundings.

He looked at Anthea who was waiting for him patiently, her phone ready for her to type in whatever he needed her to send or note down.

Licking his dry lips, Mycroft took in a trembling breath and nodded.

"I believe you would need information about my elder brother?"

Anthea smiled and returned her gaze to the phone, no comment rising from her lips about the older brother he had hidden from the world but simple acceptance that he actually had one in the first place. He could feel the surprise in Gregory but when he looked at his lover, expecting betrayal and fury similar to Mummy, he found his heart stopping for but a moment.

In those eyes were not hatred.

He saw concern, love, reassurances, confusion, curiosity.

But not hatred.

Feeling Gregory squeeze his hand once more, his partner leaned towards him and brushed his lips against Mycroft's nose.

"M'right here, Myc."

* * *

"It’s not too late to save him, sir. It would have been easier had he been here earlier, but it’s not impossible." 

Mycroft was barely paying attention to the doctor, his gaze focused on the operation taking place from below the viewing room. He attempted to keep track of the injuries told to him, but his mind had become white noise in the present.

He was conscious, but he was not absorbing anything being told to him. Not even what he was seeing. All he was capable of was replaying everything of his older brother.

Birthdays that were meant to be grey and lonely interrupted by his elder brother coming to visit him with a small box of cake and a single balloon tied to various letters to tide him through the rest of the school year tied up with string.

Sneaking out of Musgrave Hall during Christmastime with their skates in hand, gloved hands holding each other as he was taught how to skate by his more athletic brother, words of encouragement spilling from his lips as Mycroft held tightly onto him.

Watching black and white films whenever Mummy and Father were not home, both of them curled up beside one another as the story before them plays out.

Being taught to play the violin and then the piano with the guidance of gentle hands and the encouragement of a patient voice. 

His every stumble and fall being forgiven before he was pulled back up so he may learn from his mistakes.

Mycroft did not feel the tears that streamed down his face as his memories rushed to him. The memories he had chosen to lock away under the lies he had been forced to construct just for Sherlock. The memories that once, in a long time he knew should have been gone, he too was loved.

"Myc?" A rough voice of light broke through the suffocating darkness that bound him and Mycroft found himself wrapped in the tight embrace of the family he had managed to find. 

Gregory's hand came up to rest against his cheek, a thumb brushing away the tears that should have fallen more times than it truly had and Mycroft was once more met with a loving gaze.

"He’ll be fine." Gregory murmured to him, "The Doctor said he’s been beat up bad but he’ll live."

Words escaped him and all Mycroft could do was nod. His capability of weaving words into flowing speeches had now left him, all he can think of was how he did not deserve this amount of forgiveness or understanding when he had deceived his lover about this. But here he was, willing to hold him up and reassure him that all will be fine. How he will ever deserve it-

"Myc, m'not mad if that’s what you’re worrying about." 

Mycroft's thoughts went quiet. Confusion took over and he shook his head.

"Gregory, I- how could you ever..." Rubbing his face, Mycroft forced himself to gather his thoughts before wording them out slowly. "I  _ lied  _ to you." He hissed this out, words spitting venom directed at himself.

He _lied._

Just like with Mummy and Father.

Just like with Sherlock.

"S'not a lie if your brother chose to change his name, I think." Came his lover's calm reply. "Anthea told me 'bout his job and I think him an' you not associating or even seeing each other is reasonable." A flicker of hesitance came upon those dark eyes before he continued. "It was awful to know you can't see each other, but reasonable all the same."

Mycroft was silent at Gregory's words, unsure how to feel about Anthea revealing his ties to Sherrinford to his lover. But the patience and kindness that poured from Gregory was undeserving of further lies.

"You are not angry?" He asked, voice so soft it was unrecognisable from the Ice Man that others would whisper of.

Gregory was silent as he pulled Mycroft over to the sofa in the room. Mycroft could see the thoughts rushing through his lover's mind though he could not decipher them.

Gregory shrugged slightly.

"M'confused." Gregory started at last, no traces of anger or resentment in him whatsoever. "Curious 'bout his story. Curious about you and him. Worried for you. Worried for him." Gregory paused and looked at Mycroft's hand, taking it in his. "But angry?" He shook his head. "No. Not angry at all."

Their gazes met and Mycroft could recall those same sympathetic eyes directed at him when he was breaking inside his sister's cell. Kind, worried, sympathetic and words of reassurances spilling from one who had every right to curse at the world for the hand dealt to him.

"Please do not leave." He breathed out, his voice breaking as fresh tears streamed down his face once more.

Mycroft felt himself pulled against his lover, a soothing hum coming from Gregory filled his ears. Fingers ran through his hair and he could feel Gregory's lips pressing against the top of his head as he curled up, allowing himself this moment of weakness.

"Never, love." Gregory sword, sincerity painting his rough voice. "You’ll never be alone again, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really glad to know you guys enjoyed the first part so I figured I’ll try to update this whenever I could but here’s chapter two! I ended up adding a bit of hurt/comfort in this bit with Mycroft and Greg!
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts about this! And hey, hopefully the next chapter would finally have Sherrinford waking up!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting new family, secrets and acceptance

Greg looked at the comatose form on the bed. He didn’t need a breathing tube - that was a relief to his already frazzled boyfriend - and the Doctor had already told them that he’d wake up on his own which could happen any time.

Ever since that was told to him and Mycroft, his lover had immediately called Anthea to arrange for all his work to be brought to his brother's hospital room while also trying to arrange the pillows around the older Holmes in a more comfortable arrangement.

"You are not required to stay, of course." Mycroft said as he typed in a message to send Anthea, "I do not expect you to put your back at risk of discomfort for my whims."

Greg decided to kiss away Mycroft's attempt at telling him that his lover would be fine alone. He knew Mycroft was doing better now after everything that had happened, but after learning Mycroft did not exactly enjoy being alone, Greg was loathe to have Mycroft repressing any of his loneliness just so he’d be comfortable at their home.

Not that Greg would even be comfortable if he was alone while Mycroft tries to keep himself together in his estranged elder brother's presence.

"M'staying right here, love." Greg murmured, nuzzling Mycroft's neck, "Not leaving you to face all this alone."

Mycroft did not protest and merely held Greg in a tight embrace until Anthea arrived with everything he’d need to transform the hospital room into a workspace for him and his PA.

Thus began their watch that lasted four days.

They would alternate their watches. Anthea and Mycroft would take the day and afternoon while Greg takes the evening. Sometimes, he wasn’t able to do the whole night but he ever he wakes up to a nurse checking in on the patient, the nurse would report that nothing seemed to be wrong and that the patient showed no signs of waking up.

Greg figured it would still be a couple days before his lover's brother would open his eyes.

Groaning, the DCI rose from the window seat he had decided to turn into his bed - Mycroft warned him against it - and made to leave the room for a quick walk to a vending machine for something to drink when he heard it.

"I did not think you were so keen on arresting me, Officer." The voice was soft but Greg could hear the amusement in his voice when he spoke.

Greg turned to face the eldest son of the Holmes family and he saw the pale eyes of blue focus on him. Greg knew this one had read him already and was expecting the usual mocking tone like Sherlock's when he only heard a relieved breath.

"You love my brother." It was whispered with gratefulness and though he still looked like he was in need of more sleep, he was already pressing the button to prop himself up as if ready to speak more.

Well, that won’t do.

"Oi, you’re still not even close to okay." Greg scolded, making to press the button to lower him back down when the elder man raised a brow at him. The DCI rolled his eyes, "Mate, I could see you still need sleep." Greg pointed out but the eyes still remained focused on him.

"Mycroft made his instructions clear that I must be looked after?" It was weary, but not frustrated, not even exasperated. Just a weary amusement that seemed to grace the man with more fondness in his eyes at the mention of Greg's lover.

Greg raised a brow and grinned. "You know Myc." The silver-haired man stated, running his hands through his short hair, chuckling. "Poor bloke's been worried 'bout losin' you. Don’t want him more worried even though you’re already awake."

The eldest Holmes let out a soft laugh and rested his head against the pillow, making no move to lower his bed back to the appropriate position for rest. There was a sad wistfulness in his gaze as he looked up as if in search of some kind of divine intervention. 

"I must say, this comforts me to know my baby brother will be loved and cared for when I feared him to be alone in his hardships." The eldest Holmes spoke, his gaze returning to Greg, a small smile gracing his lips. "I had always worried about him and I never wanted to see him hurt. Not after-" he stopped and shook his head, his lips pressing together and though Greg felt no malice from him, he still felt dread pooling at the pit of his stomach.

"Not after... what, Mister Mutius?" The DCI asked carefully.

The eldest Holmes looked surprised for a moment before he sighed and shook his head. "It is nothing." He muttered, "It is long in the past and I trust Mycroft to be telling this to his therapist if it still hurts him." 

Greg frowned. Casting his mind back to before he was dating the British government, he could find no recollection of therapy, not even now. Shaking his head, the DCI figured that it’s likely that Mycroft felt embarrassed to even tell him that he needed therapy. Poor bastard had been constantly made to feel like he doesn’t have any right to feel anything. 

"M'hoping that’s the case too." It was the best thing he could say. He respects Mycroft’s privacy and he didn’t want to snoop even when he’s worried.

Part of him wanted to say it was that respect making him avoid it.

Another part. The part still hurting and unsure, didn’t want to see anything that might shatter his happiness.

When he met the patient's eyes again, he could see he was being read but there was none of the detachment. It was like an immediate understanding of his emotions and he said nothing about what he saw. 

"Sherrinford." He finally spoke, uttering the name that according to Anthea was forbidden from being said after she learned about him. Greg smiled and took the hand being held up for him to take. "Sherrinford Carlisle Mutius Holmes."

Greg nodded his head. "'S'an absolute pleasure to meet you, Sir." And though no words passed between them beyond that, a silent thanks shone in Greg's eyes that he did not have to hear derisive comments about his insecurities or even his capabilities to do his job.

Most of all, Greg was just happy that Mycroft could be more loved than he already is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think! I love hearing from all of you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between a brother and a lover.

He was divorced. Once.

If the look in his eyes had anything to say, it’s due to infidelity. He was the hurt party.

It was not a single instance of adultery. From what he saw of the silver-haired fellow, he could see harsh spikes of hurt and insecurity in his body language. He could account it to his occupation but he could see a more stable grip on his job when he subtly brought it up than when they discussed the smallest things about Mycroft.

Serial adultery and he was the one constantly trying to fix what cannot be salvaged.

Poor man.

Sherrinford shook his head and continued to run his gaze over the sleeping figure of his brother's lover, focusing on as much details as he can.

The silver in his hair was due to both stress and age but his eyes still look more youthful than other officers of the law which was something interesting for Sherrinford to think of.

In spite of his relaxed appearance with him, he took note that Greg - as he had introduced himself - was keeping track of his movements. Most likely waiting for any signs of discomfort from him in order for said discomforts to be eased away as immediately as possible.

He appeared to be an ordinary, amicable man but the ease with which Sherrinford was approached in spite of the knowledge that he was a secret Holmes child spoke of his adaptability in varying situations. He had average intelligence but was a keen learner and a sincere listener.

And... he _loved_ Mycroft.

It was such a small thing. Insignificant to many, useless to others, but the fact that this man loved his brother who could barely trust a swing to make him smile or a net to stop his fall... it reassured Sherrinford that though Mycroft is not alright completely, he would have the support he needed. He was no longer needed by his brother, his brother could now focus on someone else, someone who will not leave him, someone who can stay regardless of what their parents tell them.

"Still not sleeping, eh?" Focusing his attention on Greg who had woken from his dozing, Sherrinford shrugged in response.

"I had slept enough, I think." Pushing himself up to sit, Sherrinford grimaced at the flash of pain the rushed through him.

He may have gone through worse, but he was not unfeeling enough not to register the pain from his wound.

He felt a hand on his chest, gently pushing him to lie back down. Sherrinford sighed and shot a look at his younger brother's lover. Though he was some years older in comparison to the officer, Greg was not against ignoring any sort of courtesy just so Sherrinford could be afforded rest. 

"Honestly, Greg." Sherrinford sighed and shot a mock glare at the officer who only gave him a grin in response. "You are _worse_ than a mother hen!" Despite his words, there was no heat present in him, only a fond rebuke he used to give Mycroft whenever his brother saw fit to play a joke on him.

"Can’t help it if you three Holmeses decided you’d rather die from neglecting your own health." Greg answered, pulling up the blanket to Sherrinford's chest and carefully tucking it into the bed. The officer chuckled softly, "Someone's got to take care of you three."

"Ever the caretaker." Sherrinford drawled out, amusement colouring his tone. "I assure you, Greg, I do not need anyone to be my keeper."

His companion snorted and rolled his eyes. "Your multiple past articles would beg to differ." 

Sherrinford raised his brow at the officer who only gave him a knowing smile. He should not be surprised that an officer of the law would have read his reports but the fact that what his brother's lover had gleaned from his carefully constructed articles was that he needed a keeper was something Sherrinford was debating applause or reprimand for.

He elected to thank the officer instead, "I am quite pleased to know you read my articles." There was no venom or any hint of derision for the thanks he gave. Sherrinford only smiled warmly at Greg who returned the gesture. 

"You help police and you help the world, hope you know how much that means for us common folks." Greg replied, tone humble. "Some others aren’t too happy with you taking cases and complainin' you’re just a 'reporter' but you’ve done more than normal people would’ve in your job."

Sherrinford grew silent at that before he shook his head. "None of those cases I’d worked on would have been a success without my team or the police force in the area I was in."

Surprise lit up Greg's features and Sherrinford pressed his lips together. He felt he knew the cause of such surprise but he would rather not voice his knowledge. Greg was the sort of man that would rather work through his issues when he was ready and though he did not know if he should see Sherlock's callousness as such, he knew that to any normal person it would break their self-esteem to be equated to a dunce for missing something easily missed. He instead only tilted his head slightly to one side and raised his brows.

"I must admit though, you surely had seen photographs of me and my team in several of my articles. How is it that you did not recognise me?" He already had his suspicions but it would never do to act superior for knowing immediately.

Greg smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "First time, the shadows hid you, then I saw more of Mycroft than you when I saw your face, then you collapsed on us, only got to recognising you when everything's calmed down a bit." A chuckle escaped the officer and he ran a hand through his shock of slivering hair. "All that I managed to say was 'Fuck, it’s Lucius Anthony' before I went back to Myc in the observation deck."

Sherrinford nodded thoughtfully and looked up at the ceiling. Not a single crack was in sight and he had his suspicions his brother had ensured that he was in the best hospital in London. 

Sad to say, he had grown unused to these kinds of comfort for a good while now.

"That’s an understandable reason, I suppose." He mused to himself, his lips twitching up ever so slightly. Rubbing at his chin, Sherrinford gave the officer a brief glance and smiled at what he saw. "I take it you enjoy my articles in spite of my needing a keeper?"

Greg's eyes lit up like a child's and from the corner of his eye, Sherrinford saw the officer lean forward, his smile already answering the investigative reporter's question.

"Oh mate, you wouldn’t even begin to know how interesting your cases are to us Yarders!"

This was the sight Mycroft had returned to later. With Sherrinford listening to Greg's excited discussions of past cases before the silver-haired Holmes answers back with brief anecdotes from those cases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking forever with the update but I am so glad to see the outpouring of support! Thanks for the comments, it means a lot to read them and I’m so glad you enjoy them!
> 
> I hope you guys like the new chapter in spite of it being Sherrinford-centric but next chapter is Mycroft!

**Author's Note:**

> Well this just happened cause my best friend and I figured Mycroft deserves to have a sibling that he was close to a lot but we ended up making sad stuff and honestly I don’t know where to go from here so just enjoy this thing I wrote and if you can, please leave a comment? I always love hearing from you all!


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